He laughed louder than any of us, and again pricked a-head as zealously as before. The Patlander was at this time making sail past Dicky Phantom, who was strapped on to a chair, that a negro had slung at his back, knapsack fashion, and who kept way with us, go as fast as we chose, apparently without the least inconvenience.
"I tink, Mr Listado," said the child to our friend, as he pushed a-head to resume his station in the van—"I tink you wantee jomp upon de back of one of dem big crow, Mr Listado. Horse must hurt you some place, so you want ride upon big turkey, eh?"
"You tink, you tiny little rascal, you! who put that quip in your head?"
"Mamma Hudson, Miss Helen tell me say so."
"Bah," quoth Lorenzo, and shoved on.
"Hold hard," I shouted, as the road dipped abruptly into the recesses of the natural forest; and I pulled up, for fear of my mule stumbling or running me against a tree, or one of my companions; so sudden had the change been from the fierce blaze of the sun in the cleared ground, to the dark green twilight of the wood. However, although the trees, as we rode on, grew higher, and their intertwined branches became even more thickly woven together, and the matted leaves overhead more impervious to the light and heat, yet we all quickly became so accustomed to the dark shade that we very soon saw every thing distinctly.
"Good-morning, ladies," quoth Listado, as they dawned on him in all their loveliness; "how do you do? I have not seen you for some time—do you know, the beautiful verdure of your cheeks, in this light, is quite entirely captivating. You would be the envy of all the mermaids of the ocean if they saw you—but I believe they are not given to walk much in woods. Miss Hudson's beautiful face is of a cool refreshing pea-green, as I am a gentleman; and her fair nose of the colour of a grey parrot's bill, or an unboiled lobster's claw,—as for Mademoiselle Duquesné—may I die an ould maid, if you are not a delicate shade darker—and look if the child don't look as green as a fairy. Did ever mortal man see such a shamrock of a picanniny? But it is past meridian—stop till I take an observation."—Here our noisy friend put a bottle of vin-de-grave to his head.
"Do you know," said he, "I really require a cordial after my ground and lofty tumbling amongst those very damnable craturs, the turkey buzzards down below there."
"Very true," said Miss Hudson; "and I presume, Mr Listado, since you are dealing in nicknames, and have already ran through all the shades of your national colour, you will not fire, if we call you Mr Bottlegreen."
"Fair enough that same, Helen—Fire!—why, I have half a mind to shoot you with this bottle of soda water," taking one from his holster—"if I could only get the string loosened—Ah, Miss Hudson, would that my heart strings were as tough." And he made a most lamentable face, as if his interior was disarranged, and heaved a sigh fit to turn the sails of a windmill.